P is for Perseids
by Jelsemium
Summary: This was orginally for the 2007 Summer Alphabet Challenge for Numb3rs dot org. Charlie and Amita do a little star gazing. Well, meteor gazing.


P is for Perseids

Rating: K 

Author's Note: This was inspired by a three-word/twenty-minute challenge over at I didn't actually use the words "Woman", "Marijuana" and "Sheepskin." However, Amita is the woman, see if you can spot the allusions to the other two.

Sundays, nights and summers are not busy times at the California Institute of Science and Technology.

That particular August Sunday, however, while not crowded, saw more than the usual number of people. Not that Charlie Eppes and Amita Ramanujan were entirely surprised to have company. Many students and faculty were interested in viewing the Perseid meteor shower as the astronomy department had excellent telescopes.

However, after a long day of teaching, researching and pin-pointing possible ports of entry for illegal arms shipments, neither Charlie nor Amita felt like battling the crowd for a turn at the telescopes. Nor did they feel inclined to travel to any of the excellent vantage points in the hills around the city.

The view from CalSci's quad was less than, well, stellar. However, it had the advantage of already being under their feet.

"This looks good," Amita said, gesturing to a area that was far enough away from the lighted areas to allow their pupils to become accustomed to seeing in the dark while not being so isolated that they were in danger of being mugged.

As they spread beach towels on the grass, Amita eyed the image on Charlie's towel and smirked.

"What?" Charlie demanded.

"I didn't know you were into astrology," Amita said, trying to suppress a laugh.

"I'm not," Charlie huffed. "Aries is a perfectly good constellation."

"You were born in May. Shouldn't you have Taurus?" Amita teased. She set her hemp straw bag at the head of her towel.

Charlie shot her what she assumed was a dirty look, but was mostly wasted in the dark. "IF I had bought this for it's astrological connotations, you would have been correct. However, I bought this because I liked the graphic." He sniffed. "Besides, Don walked off with my Taurus towel. He likes to play matador with it."

Amita giggled.

"What have you got?" Charlie asked.

Amita grinned. "Pegasus."

Charlie eyed her towel. "Very pretty," he said. His head jerked up.

Amita looked, too, even though a meteorite would have been long gone by the time she could redirect her gaze.

The light in the sky, however, was still hovering.

"Too bright and too slow," Charlie said with a sigh.

The whup-whup-whup of helicopter blades came to their ears.

"Humph," Amita said. "You'd think the pilot would know better than to get in they way of the Perseids." She looked at Charlie, but he was looking up again.

She turned her attention to the sky. After a few minutes, a faint light streaked across her peripheral vision. By the time she turned her head to look, it was gone.

Turning her head brought Charlie's face into view. "You should be looking for falling stars, not at me," Amita teased.

Much to her surprise, Charlie answered with a snippet of song… "[IAre the stars out tonight? I don't know if it's cloudy or bright. 'Cause I only have eyes for you…[/I"

Amita laughed.

Charlie stiffened, looked away from her and focused on the sky.

"I'm sorry," Amita said. "You startled me. I guess I don't associate you with, well, musical theater."

"Ah," Charlie said. His shoulders relaxed. "It wasn't too, um, freaky?"

"No," Amita said. "It was sweet." She paused. "You have a nice singing voice."

"Thanks," Charlie said. He sounded pleased. His head jerked up and a streak of light blurred across Amita's peripheral vision.

She turned so that she was shoulder to shoulder with Charlie, facing north. She scanned the sky, looking for Perseus. Spotting the constellation, she relaxed and waited for more meteorites.

"There's nothing wrong with singing," Amita said, sorry that she had interrupted him.

"Good," Charlie said. "Sometimes I have a hard time telling what's 'normal'" He gave a bark of laughter. "Although 'sometimes' implies that there are times when I can tell."

It was Amita's turn to shrug. "'Normal' isn't a useful word out of context," she observed. "Normal as compared to what?"

She sat up straighter. That streak of light had happened directly in front of her. She could tell from Charlie's change of posture that he had seen it, too.

After waiting a few more minutes, they both relaxed.

Charlie sighed. "Normal as compared to what other people feel and…"

"Think?" supplied Amita.

Charlie gave a snort of amusement. "I ruled out thinking like other people about fifteen years ago. Now I mostly wonder if what I feel is anywhere close to normal." He looked at Amita and missed the next Perseid. "It would be nice to fit in, at least sometimes."

Amita looked at him, resisting the temptation to look at the streak of light that appeared in the corner of her left eye. "I'm not sure if I'm a good judge what's 'normal' or not." She leaned back and stared up at the sky. "But I'd be happy to listen if you feel like confiding in me."

Charlie didn't speak for a few minutes. But Amita had learned patience along with math and astrophysics.

Several streaks, one of them really bright, later, Charlie sighed. "I'm just not good at relationships," he said.

"It takes practice," Amita admitted. "What do you want from relationships?"

Charlie licked his lower lip and Amita felt butterflies in her stomach.

"I want to be happy," Charlie said.

Amita raised her eyebrows. "Well, that's perfectly normal, even I know that." She nudged him with her elbow and was rewarded with a chuckle.

"Thanks," he said. "I want you to be happy, too."

Amita grinned. "I hope that's normal," she said. "It's certainly very sweet."

"I don't deal well with change," Charlie admitted. He looked up over Amita's head. She couldn't tell if he had seen something or if he just didn't want to meet her eyes.

"I'm not sure if that's normal," Amita admitted. "But it's not exactly uncommon." She wanted to get another chuckle, or at least an eye roll out of him.

But Charlie frowned and continued to stare over her head.

Amita turned around looked up.

Charlie spoke just as another falling star hove into view.

"Not uncommon," he sighed. "Failed relationships aren't exactly uncommon, either."

"No," Amita said. Putting the star gazing on hold, she sat up and crossed her legs.

Charlie was still looking up. He was chewing on his lower lip in a way that made Amita want to kiss him.

"Career conflicts are one thing that causes relationships to fail," Charlie said.

"Yes," Amita said. "I've worried about that, myself."

Charlie nodded. "And I'm worried… well, about what people will say about us. You being my former student and all."

"You've been talking to Millie, haven't you?" Amita accused in not serious tones.

"Hard to avoid her," Charlie said with a lopsided grin. "Considering that she's both my boss and my dad's girlfriend."

"Lots of professors marry FORMER thesis students," Amita said. The streak of light didn't induce her to turn her head. Sometimes it was better to catch these things with one's peripheral vision.

"Yeah," Charlie said. "I read somewhere that getting involved with a subordinate is sort of power trip on the professor's part."

Amita laughed. "Right, it has nothing to do with the fact that advisor and advisee spend a lot of time together and have a lot in common," she said. "It's perfectly NORMAL for relationships to start from there."

Charlie grimaced. "And, unfortunately, perfectly normal for people to talk."

Amita snorted derisively. "Maybe." She cocked her head. "I don't see that there's much you can do about it, though."

"I can leave CalSci," Charlie blurted.

Amita stared, forgetting to even look at the heavens.

"You… you would leave? Just because you're worried about my career?"

"I want you to be happy," Charlie said. "I want you to have, as Millie says, a stellar career. You deserve it." He looked at her. "You are brilliant. There's so much good you can do."

Amita wasn't sure what to feel. "Charlie, that's flattering, but I don't want you to give up your career for me."

"My career is firmly established," Charlie said. "I'm the one who can most afford to move on. And we're not just talking about you and me. There's somebody else…"

Amita squinted at him as if the answer would be written on his face. Expressive as it was, she didn't find it there.

"I'm thinking about my dad and Millie," Charlie said in answer to her unspoken question.

"You're worried that people will gossip about Millie?" she asked.

"She's my boss," Charlie said. "I don't want people thinking that she'd be influenced by my dad."

"I don't think Millie would be happy if you left CalSci," Amita said. "Think of all the contributors you attract."

Charlie gave a bark of laughter. "I was thinking about my dad," Charlie said. He sat up. "He's really getting interested in Millie."

"I don't think you would be happy not teaching," Amita said slowly. "And I don't think you'd like changing schools, either."

Charlie nodded. "That goes back to the 'not being good at accepting change'. However, I can't spend all my time thinking about what would make [Ime[/I happy."

"We're talking about your future here," Amita said. "You're happiness has to figure into it somewhere.'

"I want my dad to be happy," Charlie said.

"Your dad wouldn't want you to be unhappy," Amita said.

Charlie sighed unhappily and stared up. "And there's where my dilemma is. I don't know how to make everybody happy."

Even seeing several meteorites in a row didn't make him look any happier.

"I don't think it's your job to make everybody happy," Amita said thoughtfully. "It's got to be a group effort."

"Point," Charlie said. "So, where do I start?"

"I'd think the first thing to do would be to talk this over with your family," Amita said. "And maybe Millie before you do anything…"

"Rash?" Charlie supplied.

Amita giggled. "I don't think you're the rash type," she said.

"Pity," Charlie said. "It seems so normal."

Amita chuckled. "Maybe 'normal' is overrated," she opined. "I'm pretty sure that Millie wouldn't be thrilled with the idea of you leaving. Frankly, I don't care for it either."

Charlie tilted his head. "It's not like we wouldn't still be seeing each other," he pointed out.

"True," Amita said. "But I'm not too fond of change myself. That's one of the reasons I didn't take the Harvard offer."

"That and the New England winters?" Charlie added.

They both shuddered.

Charlie crossed his arms over his knees. "I'm sorry," he said. "this isn't exactly the romantic evening I was envisioning."

Amita snuggled up to him. "I don't know, it works for me. Besides, it's hard to get acutely romantic after spending the day thinking about arms shipments."

Charlie kissed her on the cheek. "However, I do have a little something for you," he said.

Amita felt her cheeks heat up. "I didn't get you anything."

She felt his lips against her cheek pull back in a smile. "That's okay," he said. "It's not a business transaction."

They pulled apart and Charlie dug into the pocket of his jeans. When he produced a small jewelry box, Amita felt a trifle uneasy.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face because Charlie grinned at her. "Don't worry, I'm not quite ready for that big of a change, either," he said, handing her the box.

Inside was a delicate silver chain with a dull grey, oddly shaped pendant dangling from it.

"A meteorite necklace?" Amita beamed. "Thank you!" She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth.

The broke apart and Charlie sighed with pleasure.

"Feeling a little more normal?" Amita asked.

"I'm still wishing I knew what 'normal' felt like," Charlie said.

"This is a good night for wishing," Amita grinned, indicating the sky full of shooting stars.


End file.
